


The Iron Spider

by CircleUp



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Mentor/Protégé, Platonic Soulmates
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-13 02:42:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20575121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CircleUp/pseuds/CircleUp
Summary: When Tony Stark finds himself soulbound to teenaged Peter Parker, he's forced to reevaluate his romantic assumptions about soulmates.





	1. Soulbound

This is a fucking nightmare, and Tony Stark doesn't use that word lightly. He doesn't actually curse that often, except when needed and especially if it's going to annoy Steve, but he'll make an exception here, in this messy teenager's room, looking at the scrawny kid he'd ostensibly come to threaten and/or bribe (Tony had plans for both angles) into flying out of country to fight with him under the guise of an internship.

Tony's desperate. He'll be the first to admit that. But he isn't desperate for… this.

Tony opens his mouth and for the first time in his life, absolutely nothing comes out, which leaves Peter to do all the talking.

The kid blurts out, "I thought you were with Miss Potts!" and it's the first of many tastes Tony gets of that infamous Peter Parker eloquence. Seriously, he's going to have to get the kid into public speaking. Lessons, not the art.

But first: the bond.

A soul connection is so rare most people don't bother looking. Theoretically of course you could meet your match, but in a world of seven billion people, assuming your match has been born, assuming your match hasn't died, statistically speaking they probably live across the ocean from you.

"They say it's a spectrum," Tony finds himself saying, and it might have been something he believed before. Some people insist you can find a partial match, that true mates don't actually exist and it's all a gradient, but it's impossible to really think that now, not with the gold vividly ringing both of their pupils, not with the warmth that's settled into his belly. It's sickening. He tells himself it's sickening.

It doesn't feel sickening, that's the problem.

"Your eyes," Peter begins, and takes a faltering step forward, his eyes locked on Tony's face with innocent wonder.

Tony says, "You're the Spider-kid," and Peter comes to a full stop and blanches. It's honest-to-God amazing he hasn't been found out already with how terrible he is at lying, at keeping secrets. This isn't how Tony planned to do this reveal, but his whole game plan is thrown off.

"Spider-man," Peter stammers.

"What?" Tony's distracted. He finds the suit in the closet and Peter looks like he wants to snatch it back but is too polite to do so.

"It's Spider-man. Me. I'm Spider-man. Not… Spider-kid. Um. Mr. Stark?" The kid ends on a wavering note, and Tony knows what he wants to talk about isn't the costume.

That's all Tony wants to talk about. He's going to insist on it. He's going to put on blinders and never mention the gold rings and the warmth and maybe it'll go away. Maybe he'll wake up.

Why the goggles, he asks. Who makes the webbing? Peter's easy to distract, at least. The kid's proud to talk about his achievements, especially after a little encouragement. He hasn't gotten to gush about this to anyone, which Tony imagines is especially hard because he clearly needs some support. He's doing a good thing.

Tony can at least provide that.

"Listen, Underoos," Tony interrupts what actually was a pretty interesting ramble about swinging physics. He takes a breath slowly to clear his head, lets it out. Pepper's been harping on him about meditating, and also kale smoothies. He's managed one of the two, and not regularly. "I've actually got something a little bit pressing that I need your help with," and he asks about his passport.

Peter says he can't go to Germany, which is a novel concept to Tony, who's used to being able to go anywhere anytime he wants. Peter has homework, which is also a novel concept, and yet another punch right in his soulbond-warmed gut.

The kid's looking at him with adoring eyes though, like he's expecting Tony to come up with a solution to the homework problem, and Tony of course does. Peter can do it on the plane over.

The kid has a crush on him already, Tony can tell, and Tony's provision of such an eloquent solution to all of his teenage problems very clearly solidifies the kid's rapidly growing view that Tony Stark hung the moon.

Fuck.


	2. Waiting Game

Tony hears a door open, close. He's in the waiting room of the hospital. The cut across his cheek has been bandaged. All things told, he came out of Siberia more or less in one piece, which is impressive considering the fucking traitors were tag-teaming him. If it had been _one_ super-soldier against Iron Man, it wouldn't have been a contest, and Tony nearly beat them both anyway. He didn't want to blame his loss on his AI, but kinda. She was still learning, she'd only just been loaded up, she'd never faced combat before. He knew _why_ it happened. Still. If he'd had JARVIS…

Tony's been using the word fuck a lot lately. He knows that, hears a little counter in his head ding every time he thinks it. He needs to watch himself, especially now that he's got a kid hanging around.

"Tony?"

Tony looks up and he gets to see the exact moment Pepper realizes what's happened. To her credit, she barely reacts because she's so used to his shenanigans by now, but the way her eyes widen tells him everything. She pauses, collecting herself, filing the gold in his eyes away for later. Now isn't the time.

Pepper is extremely talented, and knows how to compartmentalize.

"How is he?" She asks. She's holding a StarkPad and flowers and is dressed for business, not the hospital. Tony imagines she's come from one meeting and is on her way to another and is just stopping by. She holds the flowers out for him to take, although they aren't meant for Tony. He's her delivery system, assuming Rhodey even wants to see him after this.

Tony takes them. "In surgery," he says. "Vision got him good."

"Mr. Wilson says he'd probably have died if it had hit him." Tony isn't surprised that Pepper has somehow become privy to all the battle's intimate, sordid details.

"Yeah," Tony has to agree. "The suit probably saved him. We got… lucky."

It doesn't feel like it. The victory is hollow, and the positive word hangs heavy in the air, weighing them down. Tony wishes he hadn't said it.

Pepper sits. She puts a hand on his knee. Her expression is gentle. "Tony. This wasn't your fault."

It's the worst thing she could have said, really. He's been trying to avoid thinking it, but her words give validity to that feeling and he swallows a lump in his throat. Jim probably won't walk again. That really _isn't_ his fault, but it's the easiest and most concrete thing he can blame on himself. It isn't the first time he's regretted putting on the armor, but it might be the first time he's actually considered putting it away.

Tony needs another topic. He opens his mouth and she reads his mind like she always does, pulling her hand away and folding it in her lap. "So. Who is she?"

"He," Tony sighs. It's the least important detail about who it is, but that starting point is as good as any other.

Pepper blinks, mentally reshuffling what she knows. "He." She tastes that word, less sure about Tony than she's ever been. "Tony, are you…?"

"No," he says, too quickly. It makes her lift an eyebrow and he says, "No, really. Which is actually the lesser of the problems I'm having with it."

"Oh?" She tries not to sound skeptical, for which Tony doesn't blame her, and then, when it doesn't seem like Tony knows exactly how to proceed: "So it's me."

Tony blinks up at her and she gentles her smile, smothering down hurt. She picks her words carefully. "I know you're trying to step back from your work for me, and the Accords are a good step forward in that regard."

He hears the but and doesn't want her to say it. "Pep, it's not you."

Pepper pauses. It seems her eyebrow is destined to remain arched, a permanent monument to disbelief.

"I want you back," he says and it's the least elegant he's ever been, but for once Tony just wants to get it out there, to say it, to own all of his fuck ups. He's had a lot of them. He says that, adds, "I don't want you to be one."

It's cheesy but it does make her lips twitch up in a slight smile. They'd finally stepped back from their relationship a few months ago, not a clean end but a pause for Tony to figure out where his priorities were. "But your bond. You don't even want to try?" When he hesitates again she presses on, because Pepper is nothing if not practical. She knows Tony better than he knows himself, and knows he'd throw happiness into a fire if he didn't think he was worthy of it. "You can work around it, whatever it is. Our break...doesn't mean we won't still be friends."

"It's Peter," he says, which is a name that means nothing to her. Pepper doesn't keep track of every intern and fake intern in the company. Tony clarifies: "He's fifteen."

Whatever she'd been expecting, it wasn't that. "Oh God, Tony." Pepper presses her fingers to her lips briefly, a moment of shock. Of horror. Tony's relieved that someone else can sympathize, and even better than that, he can already see Pepper's mind going to work, the calculations, the planning. She's already processed this and is now looking into its inevitable future. "Who knows?"

"The kid. That's it. Unless he's told anybody." Tony realizes with a sinking horror that was more than just likely. The second he showed up in school with golden eyes, his classmates would be after him.

Pepper is calm, all business. She squeezes Tony's knee. "Call him and invite him over. Even if you don't pursue it—"

"Absolutely won't," Tony interrupts, which Pepper ignores.

"—you'll need to make an announcement. You can't keep those a secret." She nods to him, meaning the eyes. "So we'll get ahead of it. It'll be fine."

There's a weight lifted from Tony's chest that he didn't even know had been there until he could breathe again. His eyes skitter to the door leading into the OR, and Pepper lets go of his knee to take his hand. "You'll call him after Jim."

Tony repeats, "After Jim."


	3. Trending on Twitter

"Nice contacts," MJ says in a voice dripping with flat disinterest the moment Peter walks in. She barely looks up from where she's slouched over her desk, a book open in front of her that she isn't reading. Peter's blush is immediate, furious, and MJ's laser-like focus follows him all the way to his seat cater-cornered from hers. She somehow manages to pull giving him her full attention off while barely looking. "How was the trip?"

It draws Ned's attention from his phone and he's much less subtle, blurting "Holy cow your eyes!" out in a way that makes Peter wonder, not for the first time, why Ned hasn't managed to let his superhero identity out of the bag. "Oh my god, did you meet them in Europe? How was it? Who is it? Are they here? Show me a picture. Do you have a picture?"

There isn't a subtle way to return to class from a fake Stark internship with soulbound eyes, or at least if there is, Mr. Stark didn't give him a brief about it. Peter fumbles with his bag, taking too long to get out a notebook. "Uh."

Peter has a lot of attention on him now, with Ned peppering him with questions. Every new tidbit of information Ned manages to pry out ("they're… older," gets giggles, and a lot of questions about how much older) causes a new stir. Peter avoids answering most of the interrogation, which leaves Ned to just spit questions out in an endless rapidfire. Peter does correct the gender once to _he_ once Ned started assuming the opposite, and it takes everyone a couple of minutes to get over themselves.

Peter's English teacher doesn't even bother to try to regain control of the class. After a cursory, _Can we please get back to it?_ about a lesson that hadn't even started, he sits down at his desk and openly starts playing on his phone. It's one of those days.

Not everyone is interested, but a soulbond is a novel enough concept that most of the class at least listens in.

"C'mon," Ned wheedles, after Peter has more-or-less clammed up. "You've gotta tell us something. Is it someone we know?"

Peter doesn't know what his face does, but it must do something because MJ who's been quiet after her first outburst flatly says with no wonder at all, "Oh my god, it's someone famous," and Peter's stricken expression doesn't help deny it.

They start guessing names. Peter accidentally confirms that it _is_ someone well-known by saying who it isn't. He shoots down a lot of them, mostly actors and Instagram models, before MJ who is apparently the wunderkind of seeing right through Peter, randomly declares, "It's Bruce Banner."

It isn't a question. She says it, a fact, and it's close enough that Peter freezes up again, stammers over it. Her eyes round and she actually lifts her head off of her desk to straighten up. "Wow. You know how to pick them."

"It isn't Dr. Banner," Peter says weakly.

No one believes him.

* * *

Tony's sitting by Rhodey's side when Pepper calls. He's been out of surgery for four hours and is drowsy but laughing. He took the news about his spine surprisingly well. Tony thinks he can make some leg braces for him. He's relieved that Rhodey doesn't hate him.

"Hey Pep," he says, picking up.

She doesn't ask about Rhodey. "Is it Peter Parker?"

"What?"

"Is your soulmate Peter Parker, Tony?" She repeats it with the exact same intonation as before, clipped and a little annoyed.

Tony's eyes widen, locking on Rhodey's. Of course he'd already asked about Tony's eyes. "He told someone?"

"It's all over Twitter."

"What?" Tony says again. It's the only thing he can repeat.

"It actually trended initially saying he was paired with Bruce, but Bruce is active on Twitter and shut it down pretty quickly."

Rhodes mouths, _Is everything okay?_ Tony shakes his head, waves him off, turns half away. "So he name dropped me?!"

"Actually, no, but a few journalists are already picking it up, so it's probably a matter of hours now. If that. You know how people get." Soulbonds were rare enough and coveted enough that even nobodies could get ten minutes of fame over them with very little effort. "Where are you?"

"With Rhodey."

"I'm sending a car. School's out in an hour and I'll have Happy pick Peter up too. Vicky—" she was part of Tony's incredible PR team "—is already handling a statement."

"So it's handled," Tony says, just to be sure.

On the line, Pepper sighs. "It will be. This sort of thing only happens to you, you know."

"I love you, Pep. Seriously."

"I know. See you soon."

"Bye," Tony says, and the call ends.


	4. You Don't Have to Go

Soulmates are supposed to be lovers right, that's how it's supposed to work. You meet your soulmate and they're perfect for you in every way, and that includes in bed. Peter doesn't know a whole lot about soulbonds, but he is relatively certain about that particular part. It's the norm, right? It's normal. You… sleep with… your soulmate. In bed. Sexually. Without clothes. In bed. And Mr. Stark is his soulmate. Naked Mr. Stark.

Peter can't even picture him naked. He's… he's kind of tried. He can picture him talking to reporters, and inventing things, and flying the suit, and saving like, America. He's always clothed though. Mr. Stark is clothed like, 100% of the time in all of Peter's fantasies, which up to this point have involved his inventions being discovered by him and doing sciencey stuff together. Maybe Mr. Stark's impressed with his webbing and wants him to inherit his company because Peter's so smart. That kind of thing.

Peter might barf. He's undecided on it.

The last hour of school he pretty much ignores, because right before it he gets a text from an unknown number.

_Good afternoon, Peter. This is Virginia Potts of Stark Industries. A car will be by to pick you up after school. Please meet the driver at the front entrance. See you soon._

Peter's reply is one that he's still wishing he could take back, an hour later.

Peter: ?  
Peter: Okay?

He's left on read and has to sincerely hope a meteor strikes the school sometime before the hour's up, but it doesn't and the dismissal bell rings and he feels like he's doing the walk of shame for some reason when he leaves.

Ned's at his shoulder, babbling. MJ's at the other shoulder. She sees the car first and says, "Oh wow." She says, "It really isn't Bruce Banner."

They all stop and look at the car idling on the street. The driver hasn't gotten out. It's sleek black, and even though everything about the design is meant to imply subtlety, it isn't at all. Like everything Mr. Stark designs, it draws the eye without being ostentatious. It's totally unique, set apart on the road, and other students have noticed it too.

MJ turns to Peter and says, suddenly and completely seriously, "You don't have to go."

Peter's so shocked by her sincerity that he looks away from the car he'd been staring at like it held his executioner. "Huh?"

"What?" Ned blurts out. "Where're you going?"

MJ ignores him. She holds Peter's eyes. Hers are almost urgent. "You don't have to go just because it's him."

"It's who? What?" Ned cuts in, background noise.

Peter doesn't know why he's so nervous, and MJ decides, abrupt, "I'm going with you."

"Is that Tony Stark's car?" Ned asks, floored. "Wait, is that here for you?!"

"Okay," says Peter, surprising himself.

"Oh my God," Ned's saying, ignored by everyone. "Is your soulmate someone—oh my God," he puts together.

"Knew you'd get there, Champ." MJ pats his arm and then she's linking arms with Peter, taking a charge she's never seemed to take before to all but march him to the car. She's the one who opens the door and announces, "I'm his plus one," to the skeptical looking driver, and climbs inside.

Peter's quick to follow. The driver seems like a man who's used to dealing with constant, soul-draining changes, and doesn't put up a fight. "Okay," he says, a little cautiously. "Who're you?"

His name, it turns out after a surreal minute in which MJ does not directly answer the question and Happy has to question how his career took this turn, is Happy Hogan. Peter's supposed to meet Tony to discuss the press interview, he explains. He's put classical on the radio purposely, possibly to annoy them because he wasn't listening to it before.

Peter squawks. "What? I thought we were just meeting."

"Sorry, kid," Happy says, meeting his eyes in the mirror. His sympathy seems real. "Welcome to life with Tony."

MJ says, "I heard he built an underground bunker for him and all his rich friends to live in in the apocalypse," and Peter is genuinely glad he brought her.


	5. Johnnie Walker Blue

"I met him once before, you know," Peter blurts out, apropos of nothing. When they'd reached the Avengers Tower, Happy parked in a lot underground, escorted them up thirty floors to a small lounge, then left them to wait. The room is obviously meant for this purpose, and has snacks and drinks set out, as well as a minibar that MJ's exploring. Peter nervously helps himself to some Sprite, eats a candy bar, then wanders to the windows to stare out at the view. It isn't as impressive only thirty floors up.

MJ blinks over at him. She's opened a previously unopened bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue and sniffs it. Peter gets distracted when she pours a splash into a glass.

"Uh," he says, unable to think of a better protest than that.

"Relax," says MJ. "I just want to see the hype. I bet he has fifty of these bottles lying around anyway. You know, for guests he wants to insult with cheap stuff."

She takes the smallest sip, makes a face, and sets the glass down next to the bottle she's recapped. Peter doesn't know enough about whiskey to understand the reference, and at his blank look she moves on. "You met him. Right, with the internship, I know."

"No," says Peter. "Actually at the Stark Expo, in um, 2010. When those drones went crazy."

MJ stares. "You were there?"

"One of the drones actually almost shot me, but Iron Man swooped down and shot it back. And then he told me—oh, I was wearing an Iron Man mask. Like the costume." Peter isn't a great story teller. "And I tried to shoot it with the costume, and he shot it and told me, nice work, kid, then flew off."

It's rambling and all hero-worship. MJ sees a huge potential problem, considering the reason they're here. Maybe he actually does have a crush. She says, "Huh."

"Yeah." Peter shrugs, trying to downplay it, but he can't downplay the goofy smile that's fighting its way to his face. Reminiscent. It fades though as he comes back to the present, to a reality where Iron Man is an actual person, not someone he can project things onto. It's jarring.

"Jeez. How many attacks have you been in?" She snorts. "Trying to show us up?" Even if you've somehow managed to avoid all of the mutant and mutate spats that crop up so frequently in the city, they'd all lived through the Battle of New York.

Peter relaxes a little, chuckles. MJ says, "Wanna help me check for secret switches or panels before they come in? I bet there's at least one," and Peter agrees.

There aren't any, or at least they don't find any before the door opens and Tony Stark comes in, accompanied by Pepper and Happy.

There's small talk at first. Nothing pressing, Pepper making sure everyone has enough to nibble on and asking about school. It isn't clear why Happy is there; he stays at the counter while Pepper and Tony take seats on the couches and wait for the teenagers to join them.

"So," Tony begins. Peter has his Sprite in his lap and is playing with the straw, stirring it. MJ is staring at Tony dead on. He doesn't think she's blinked since he'd sat down. "It's MJ, right?"

"We're lovers," MJ says with little to no enthusiasm about it. "Peter and I are involved in a polyamorous relationship with three other people. It isn't open though," she adds very pointedly. "So don't even ask."

Tony has the look of a man who has had a great truth about the world revealed to him that he'd never considered before and maybe doesn't really like. What he says though is, briskly, "Great. That works out well for everyone," while Peter tries to recover from inhaling his soda.

They all have to pause for Peter. Tony checks in on him; Pepper offers out a glass of water like more liquid will help; MJ just stares at him like he is being disruptive on purpose.

She's thrown off her game. Staring at Peter helps, giving her a couple seconds to adjust to this. She hadn't planned for a positive reaction. "You're not interested?"

Tony pauses, and then nods to Pepper, who gives him a skeptical look but clears the other witnesses out of the room, including herself, and MJ looks a little nervous with the layer of protection gone.

Peter has recovered from the coughing fit.

Tony sighs and sits back in his chair, his eyes going to Peter. "I never expected that I'd be in a position where I had to directly say anything like this, but I want to be one hundred percent clear between us so there are no misunderstandings."

He had been largely addressing MJ so far, because she somehow had seemed like the safer option between the two of them, but now Tony looks to Peter. The kid is still watery-eyed from choking, but the coughs have stopped. Tony says, "I am very happy with Pepper, but even if I weren't, I have absolutely no—" and it does genuinely seem to pain him to have to say, like even thinking about it makes him uncomfortable. Discomfort is an odd look on Tony Stark "—romantic inclinations toward you whatsoever. For… so many reasons. So many. Before we start this press circuit, I need to know if you're going to say anything about trying to… pursue me."

Tony really hadn't thought it was possible for him to get any redder, but Peter is determined to surprise him at every turn. His blush is so fierce it's bordering on ugly. He's gone well past cute, controllable emotions, and into raw hysteria. Tony waits through it. It's important for Peter to come up with this answer himself.

"God no!" It's blurted out, fervent and thoroughly humiliated. "You're like—you're like my—"

"You're old," MJ supplies helpfully.

"Thank you, peanut gallery," says Tony. He's practically sagged back with relief. The idea that Peter could be expecting more out of the soulbond hadn't really occurred to him throughout Germany, but after Pepper brought it up, he'd lost sleep over it. "In that case, let's discuss what we want."

The next half hour is a lot easier. Now that romance is off the table, Peter warms up and he's engaging, talking to Tony with increasing excitement about a few research ideas he has, projects he wants to work on. Tony wants him in his labs, working under if not sometimes directly with him, and it doesn't come up but maybe inheriting the company isn't actually a fantasy after all. MJ finds herself just listening, mostly to Peter.

When he catches her eye, his hands raised in articulation of the point he's making, she doesn't quite manage to stop a smile.


	6. Press Conference

"Press conference time," says Tony.

It makes Peter snap out of the ease he'd settled into. MJ and he practically had their knees touching. Mr. Stark didn't seem like he wanted to jump his bones. Everything was coming up Peter.

Until that.

Peter stiffens, looks up so slowly he's sure his head creaks like the joints of an old plastic toy. Mr. Stark at least isn't looking at him with just a smirk. The smirk _is_ there—he can't honestly help but find Peter's deep discomfort funny—but there's something sympathetic behind it too.

"We have to," Mr. Stark says, and Peter has to bite his tongue, practically. You, he wants to say. You have to, not we.

You.

He's never felt as gangly as he feels now, walking after the older man. Mr. Stark moves through rooms like he owns them, and in these cases it's true, he does, but Peter's seen him other places and it's no different there. When Mr. Stark is outside, the sun rises and sets to appease him. 

Who else would it be showing off for?

"Don't answer any of their questions," Mr. Stark is telling a slightly flummoxed Peter as they walk. "Let me do the answering. Only answer if I give you the question. Understand?"

"But it's a press conference," Peter begins naively.

Tony glances at him. "Okay first rule, press are leeches, not real people. Vampires. They'll bleed you dry for a story. I mean it," he repeats when it seems like Peter wants to say something else. "Do not answer anything they ask."

Again Peter opens his mouth to protest, jittery over the idea, and Tony levels him with a look. "Kid. You have things to hide."

It shuts Peter up, and his mouth snaps closed.

* * *

"Thank you all for coming," Tony begins with his press-ready smile. There are already titters over his eyes, murmurs, and some people are putting it together with Peter standing there feeling foolish, but there isn't an outburst yet. "We'll keep this short. I have met my soulmate."

There's the outburst. Tony lifts up a hand and puts it on Peter's shoulder after it dies back down. "His name is Peter Parker, and we're both very excited to be developing a strong, and platonic, friendship going forward that focuses on our mutual love of science and technology."

More overlapping questions. Tony says, "We will be taking three questions. Go ahead."

"Does that mean you and Miss Potts will be tabling your relationship?"

"I just said platonic, didn't I?" Tony responds. "Pepper and I are still on the love boat. Train. Love metaphor. Yes, you."

"How did you meet?"

"Total chance. He applied for an internship and his application was impressive enough that I wanted to see him myself. It was meant to be," Tony adds with a smile, easily charming.

Peter's just standing there, sweating. The last question goes to him.

"How old are you, Peter?"

Peter casts his eyes to Tony, who nods approvingly. "I'm fifteen," he says, and the outburst that follows is the loudest so far.

* * *

The news that evening isn't kind.

_"Well I'll tell you what, there's no chance—none—that Stark isn't tapping that ass. I'm sorry," one talk show host is laughing to his co-host. "But you're telling me that you find your soulmate, a one-in-a-billion person, and the chances of doing this are astronomical, and you don't immediately show them the horizontal tango?"_

_"Their ages," begins the woman, and is cut off._

_"A man needs sex, Sara, I don't care who you are. Stark especially?" They both chuckle. "I mean we all know his reputation. Am I wrong?"_

_She grins at him. "Still. He is a child."_

_"Age of consent for him is in a year," he points out. "You think they're waiting?"_

_She's a little uncomfortable but not enough to go entirely against the direction of the topic, so she's tentative. "I think regardless of what you think of Tony Stark, he wouldn't take advantage of a child."_

_"His soulmate," the man corrects. "You can't take advantage of something that's yours."_

"Peter." Aunt May is standing in the door to the kitchen. Peter has been on the couch since he got back from Mr. Stark's, watching people pick apart the short statement. He sees himself on screen, looking shell-shocked and a little dopey and, if he's being honest with himself, maybe a little smitten. He doesn't think he's smitten with Mr. Stark, but after watching six different stations freeze-frame on how he's looking at the older man, now he's less sure. It's like being gaslighted by himself.

Peter jerks and twists to look back at her, over the back of the couch. His expression is guilt-ridden, like he'd been caught in something he shouldn't. To be fair, that's nearly exactly what's happened. He hadn't told his aunt who his soulmate was. She saw his eyes, of course, but when he obviously hadn't been ready to discuss it she'd let it be, only to find everything out at the same time as the rest of the world did. Still, the only thing she'd done when Peter came home from Mr. Stark's was give him a hug and let him know that she had ordered them pizza.

Now the pizza's here, and Aunt May's holding two stacked boxes. "Let's switch that off," she says as she moves to join him. "Or to something else." The boxes go on the coffee table with napkins serving as plates, and she grabs the remote to change it to a streaming service. Something funny. Something that can be just background noise if needed.

Peter pulls an entire pizza box toward him and onto his lap. Aunt May knows all about his metabolism post-bite, so it isn't strange for him to just dive in to the entire thing.

"It seemed like it went well," she says, trying to open the talk they need to have on neutral grounds. She's hurt over it, but also acutely aware that Peter didn't tell her for a reason. Hammering that point home now won't fix anything, so she doesn't bring it up. It'll probably make him double down and refuse to tell her other things in the future.

"I look stupid," Peter disagrees. He stuffs half a pizza slice into his mouth in a huge bite.

"Well, we probably could have done something about your hair," Aunt May murmurs, which makes Peter blink at her in dismay. She smiles at him, kidding, and it serves its purpose: Peter's less stiff now.

He huffs, relaxes a little, rolls his eyes, and then after a big breath, he begins, "Aunt May…" There's apology in it, but she cuts him off.

"No, Peter. I don't want you to apologize." He's left surprised again, as his aunt continues. "That was a big shock, I bet. Getting that news. It happened when he came over, before you left?"

Peter nods.

"I didn't know what to do," he admits, still holding the half-slice of pizza. He folds it down the middle like a sandwich. "I thought that… I dunno. You'd disown me or something. You'd be mad."

"Oh sweetheart. No." Aunt May puts an arm out and around his shoulders in a quick, sideways hug.

"I know. It's stupid. Just…"

They sit like that for a little, watching the TV and eating, with her arm around him. When the episode ends, she sighs and shifts and takes her arm back. Business time. "I wish," she begins, "that he had come and talked with me first."

That hangs between them, because now Peter wishes Mr. Stark had done that too. That hadn't even occurred to him as an option, but now all the potential meanings behind Mr. Stark's failure to do so settle in Peter's stomach, a rock. "You should meet him. Again, I mean. Talk with him."

Aunt May knows the internship wasn't real. The Avengers breakdown and all the fallout surrounding it had been widely covered, and Spider-man's appearance there of course had been included. That had been a whole talk when he'd come back, which she still isn't over. She's mad about it, and mostly at Tony.

"Oh," Aunt May says, and there's something darker about it. Something promising. She wants to do a whole lot more than talk to the man. "Don't worry. I intend to."


	7. The View

Aunt May doesn't barge in to yell at Tony. That isn't how security works. She has to schedule an appointment, go through the proper channels, tell them why she wants to see him.

It's scheduled, surprisingly, for that afternoon, so she barely has to wait. Maybe Tony Stark makes being yelled at a priority. She thinks it's more likely that the name Parker held some weight. She took the day off and spends it mostly in the lobby, which is enormous. They have tea and croissants and cookies and fancy little chocolates and fresh fruit. There is a fish tank there that would be better suited in a full-on aquarium. They have a small nook for books and tech magazines, and even loaner StarkPads for visitors. She doesn't need to leave to keep herself entertained for a few hours, so she stays.

Finally, the receptionist calls her name, smiles, and says she's expected and that she can go on up. To where, May asks, because the receptionist had only nodded at the elevator like May knew where to find him.

It'll take you there, May is told. She's dubious but gets in.

She goes up, and up, and up. Ninety three floors, all the way to the penthouse. She doesn't need to push a button at all. That receptionist was right.

The doors open and May steps out into not an office as she'd been expecting, but Tony's living space. It's huge, expansive, airy. Elegant. Somehow simple, if that can accurately be said about a place with technology in everything, and where the couches alone can't be less than what she makes in a year.

Tony Stark is lounging on one of these annual-salary couches, but he stands when May comes in. He's smiling, a drink in one hand, wearing a suit that's cost could staff and fill a soup kitchen for months. "May Parker. I couldn't believe it when I saw your name. Can I offer you a drink?"

No. She doesn't want a drink. Her eyes go dangerous with fire, a disbelief at the audacity of this man and his ridiculous goatee and ridiculous haircut. She does not want a drink. She wants to smash his out of his hand for his audacity to be so carefree.

"No," she says coldly, but still tacks on, "thank you," because she's polite. She stays in the entranceway, where the elevator let her off. The door has closed behind her.

"You sure? I have coffee. Juice. Water?"

She takes a breath for patience. "Water is fine."

So Tony gets her water, and hands it off in a tall glass, with ice after he checks.

"So," he says. "You're here to yell at me."

"Yes," she says, because it's true. Just because he said it doesn't mean she wants to any less. She isn't diffused by the truth.

"By all means," Tony invites.

"He's a child," she says, calm. "How dare you—how _dare_ you use him for your little spat."

She spits it out and honestly Tony hadn't expected that direction, so he's confused for a second. He blinks, adjusts. "Oh. You… know."

"Of course I know!" She spits even though technically she only found out about Spider-man recently. "He's my nephew. And I think I have a right to know if he's going to Germany to get into a fight with Captain America!"

May isn't a violent person, but the urge to slap Tony is so strong she has to curl her fingers into a fist, which doesn't make it much better.

Tony's face does something strange, cycling through several emotions at once before landing on something reserved, something she's never seen from him, since May has only ever seen him in front of a camera. It isn't a for-the-public expression. He says, "Now hold on."

She wants to yell more but honestly she's run out of coherent things to say. She has no problem starting from the beginning, yelling all of it again, but for now she waits.

He says, "Did you see his old costume?"

It's May's turn to be surprised. "Pardon me?"

"His old costume," Tony repeats, more purposeful, turning entirely to face her. His whole attention is heavy, a weight that pins her there. He's fixated. "Before I upgraded it. Did you see it?"

May hadn't known that Peter had a costume before Tony's. She's embarrassed to admit that she didn't think about it. Peter had said that Tony Stark designed the suit, and showed off the suit's AI and a few other fancy features, and it was all so much to take in that May hadn't even considered that there was a before period to Tony Stark's Spider-man suit design.

She shakes her head, because she's honest, and Tony nods once.

"I didn't think so." It isn't vindictive. Tony isn't lording the win over her. He gestures with his glass in a sweeping motion to the windows that look out over the city expanse, and walks toward them, and she follows. They look out, side-by-side, across the city. From this side of the building, the view isn't obstructed by other skyscrapers, and May can take in New York's vastness. Below, the streets are packed with rush hour traffic, a bumper-to-bumper that doesn't end at conventional times. She doesn't mean to appreciate anything this man has or can give her, but it's hard not to take in the view. Every person below has a separate life, a family, experiences, and dreams, and while she can't make out individuals from this height, there's evidence of them. She can see the masses of pedestrians moving together, swarms of individuals made indistinguishable by the mob. It's the pinnacle in people-watching.

May says, "I think if I lived here I'd spend most of my time looking out."

"There's a balcony," Tony responds, glancing over. "But it's usually too windy to stay out long. I land Iron Man from it," he adds, and that reminds May of why she's here. She tears her eyes away from the windows.

Tony is still watching her and he speaks before she can. "Peter isn't a child, you know."

It's the absolute wrong thing to say. He couldn't have led with anything worse. May's mouth literally falls open, flabbergasted, as she tries to pick coherent thoughts out of the need to scream.

"He's fifteen," she finally states. It's ice cold.

Tony apparently realizes exactly what he'd said and grimaces. "What I mean is, he's not a child, he's a mutate."

"He's not a mutant," May splutters.

"No," Tony agrees, and clarifies, used to it. "Mutants are born with their powers. It's genetic, and presents typically around puberty. There's a gene behind it—" he pauses before he can get off track. "Whereas mutates, such as the Hulk, Captain America, and now Peter, receive them through—well, I suppose there are infinite ways."

May does not look happy but she doesn't disagree enough to interrupt him, so Tony presses on. "It's true. He's a child. But he's also out on the street, sometimes nightly, literally fighting bank robbers. I saw a video yesterday—" and Tony doesn't pull his punches "—of him going into a burning building. Repeatedly. Solo. He saved three people and one very angry cat."

May doesn't smile. Tony says, more gently, "So no. He's not a child. He is, and he isn't, and I think you know that. What ordinary aunt would let her nephew roam the city at night?"

"I'm still coming to terms with it," she admits, because this conversation is striking closer to home than she'd like.

"Peter was probably safer with us, when it comes right down to it," Tony tells her. "Cap—" and that nickname is hard to stop using, even though he's trying "—wasn't going to hurt him."

"Didn't one of you end up in the hospital?" May asks, cruel, and immediately regrets it. "Oh god, I'm sorry. That wasn't—I'm very angry, but that wasn't called for."

It does admittedly throw Tony off. He doesn't rally from it as easily as he'd like. "Jim Rhodes. Yes. The job's dangerous," he continues, trying to push past thinking about Rhodey. "No matter where you go. But it's less dangerous with us, and less dangerous with my suit. Seriously, ask him about his old suit. I'm sure he still has it."

"I might," May murmurs, knowing she will.

Tony sighs. His eyes go back to the view out the windows. "I was scared, when I heard about him."

"Why?"

Tony takes a moment to think about his words. "I knew I had to do something. Before I even knew what we were, I mean. If I'd left this kid alone out there…" For a moment he pauses and considers keeping her in the dark, but doesn't. "Peter never had the luxury of anonymity, not really. He'd never have been left alone. Look at Daredevil. If I hadn't found him, someone else would have."

Tony says it in such a dark tone that it makes a shiver run up May's spine.

"Like who? SHIELD?" She asks, careful. Rebuilding the organization is a touchy subject.

"Possibly, but probably worse. There are… a lot of powers in the world, Ms. Parker, and none of them will hesitate to take any weapon they can."

"Including you," she says.

Tony says, "Including me."

She weighs that. She's not angry anymore. Instead it has been replaced with a pit of dread. She prefers the anger.

"But I don't want to use him," Tony murmurs. "That's… what I want, with the Accords. With all of this. He is a kid. He should be treated like a kid. He shouldn't be on the streets at all."

"You want him to sign them," she realizes.

"He'll have to, eventually. He's a minor now…" Tony lets it trail off, then smiles a smile that's a little sad. "None of us know how to use all this power. And I don't think either of us are going to be able to stop Peter from doing what he thinks is right."

May has to smile a little there too. "Probably not."

"Definitely not. So I made him a suit. It's safe, it's got features, it's got comms, and a tracker."

"You still should have spoken with me first."

Tony exhales. He doesn't like admitting he may have been wrong. "I know. I'd say next time I will, but there won't be a next time."

May isn't as confident as Tony is about that.

"Either way," he promises, "here. My direct line."

She puts it in her phone, and thanks him, and lets herself out of the building while he gets ready for his next meeting.

It's only when she's on the ground floor that she realizes they hadn't talked about the soulbond at all.


End file.
